The One Good Reason (Bucky x OFC)
by oblivion-is-grace
Summary: Emma is the eighteen year old daughter of billionaire, Tony Stark. On her way home from school, she is kidnapped by Hydra, leaving Tony to scramble in order to save her life.
1. The Cold Heart of Winter

Tony Stark, the man who could always pull it together in times of uncertainty, was coming undone at the seams. He had once walked his daughter, Emma, down that familiar sidewalk to school every single day of her freshman and sophomore years of high school as well as every day of elementary and middle school. Being a fresh 18 year old and only a month away from finishing your senior year, he understood that it wasn't very cool to have your dad walking you to school even if he _was _Tony Stark. On that day, though, he wished he did just that. He would've traded the taunts from the other kids and the judgemental or dismissive glances for her safety.

When she hadn't returned home by 5 o'clock like she normally did, he merely assumed she was out with her friends. Though she had _always _been considerate enough to call him beforehand to let him know where she was going and who she would be with, he chalked it up to a spur of the moment trip. When dinner rolled around, he started to get nervous because every Friday since she was a little girl had been sacred. It was Father-Daughter Friday. He would make her breakfast in the mornings, they would eat dinner together at the table, and then she got to pick out the movie they would watch afterward. She would undoubtedly fall asleep with her head on his shoulder, and no matter how many years passed, he picked her up in his arms and carried her up to her bedroom. That was his favorite time. Their little moments of silence when the world around them continued the incessant thrumming. He would pull the blanket up over her body and brush her long brown hair from her face. Then, he would sit there beside her bed, just watching her as she slept, a real life sleeping beauty.

Thoughts of those perfect moments didn't calm him, though. Her failure to make it home for the spaghetti dinner-her favorite-had him pacing around the house, calling her phone and leaving countless voicemails. Every time she missed a call, he would run his fingers through his hair, messing it up more and more every time. Thankfully, he was alone. No one else should've seen him like that. He believed in keeping it together for the rest of the team no matter what. He couldn't be the weakest link, but he was slowly slipping into sanity as the calls kept transferring over to voicemail. Ever since New York, his anxiety levels were through the roof, and they were even moreso when it came to Emma. She was his pride and joy, the one thing that reminded him that the world _was_ worth saving even when he had seen so much that told him it wasn't. She was the representation of purity and light in his world of chaos and darkness.

He knew people who would want to extinguish that light. He knew people who wanted to plunge the world into nothing but chaos and darkness, and in order to do that, they would eliminate the ones who brought goodness into the world. He knew people who would stoop so low as to use her to hurt him, knowing that it would be the easiest way to get under his skin. He was a father before anything else. When it came to Emma, he wasn't the billionaire or the engineer or the hero. He was just Tony. The moment she was born, the moment he held her in his arms, he set aside the playboy lifestyle, and he didn't miss it one bit. She was his everything, and his enemies knew that.

Upon seeing that calling her was no use, Tony made his way along her usual path to and from school. It was the same every day of the week including each weekend as she would walk to the high school to help tutor students. She was also a part of a mentor program, guiding younger kids toward a brighter future. She _always_ put others before herself, believing that the needs of the many would always outweigh the needs of the few or that the needs of others would always outweigh her own needs. Tony found this both ironic and comforting as he was the exact opposite growing up. It would be a lie to say he wasn't one of the more selfish individuals to grace the planet as he was growing up. He thought of himself most of the time, and his daughter was the polar opposite. She was kind and compassionate where he had been cold and calculating. If she didn't look so much like him, people would've been sure they weren't related.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Steve's landline. The supersoldier had a cell phone but _never_ answered it when he was at his apartment. Since it was Friday, Tony knew that the rest of the Avengers would be gathered at Steve's apartment for their traditional Friday night potluck dinner. Then, they all gathered for Saturday game night at Tony's house. Emma showed off her skills when it came to video games and strategy with the board and card games they played. She was better than her father at poker even though Tony wouldn't admit such a thing. She was competitive like him, but she was never a sore winner. After a few rings, Steve answered the phone that still had a cord on it. God, he was a dinosaur.

Before Steve could even greet him, Tony began, "Steve, it's Tony. Is Emma at your apartment with you?" he asked, the fear and hope both rising in his throat. He would've been hurt but so much less stressed if she had simply blown him off for Steve. However, Tony could hear the confusion in his voice before he even answered the question.

"No," he answered almost hesitantly, "Thor and Bruce are over here right now, though, and Clint went out with Nat to get pizza. No one wanted to cook tonight, so-"

Tony cut him off, too anxious to care about being polite, "have you seen her at all today?" he asked, unconsciously picking up the pace he took while walking along the sidewalk.

"I haven't. Why? What's wrong?" Steve asked, concern in his voice over the overt difference in both Tony's behavior and voice. While they had their differences, they always had at least one thing in common: Emma. Even though she didn't know it, she had been one of the sole reasons why the team was so close. It wasn't because of everyone's love for her and desire to keep her safe, but it was because of her love of everyone else. They all wanted to see her happy, and the only way to make that happen was for disagreements to remain disagreements and not escalate into full-blown arguments that would tear the team apart. Everyone thought before they spoke and anticipated the consequences of their actions far more than they would have without her. She was the glue. She was the reason they became a family and not just a team, and each one of them loved her in their own way-with the intensity of a dying star.

"She's not home. She usually calls on her way home to tell me how her day was, but I haven't heard from her at all." he answered, running a hand through his hair one more time. He tried to pull in a long breath of air to calm himself, but all he got was a short puff of air, his lungs beginning to tighten as the sweat beaded up on his forehead and moistened his palms, "I'm just worried. What if something happened?"

"Listen, Tony, I'm sure everything is fine," Steve tried to calm one of the people he considered a close friend, almost like an annoying brother who always had to be right about everything. It was in Steve's nature to be peaceful, so whenever someone was falling into a pit, they had him to grab onto. While Captain America was a hero to the world, Steve was a hero to Tony. Tony could hear the calming smile forming on Steve's face, "she's probably just out with her friends. Not many young people today have a family night on Friday's...or any day. It's one of the more...discouraging things I've learned about this century."

Tony chewed on his bottom lip, wanting to be strong enough to pull it together. He had this gut feeling that wouldn't go away. He couldn't shake the thought that she was in serious trouble, that her life was in danger, "I know, but...what if something serious happened to her? I don't want to think that she's fine if something's wrong."

"I just don't want you working yourself up for no reason," Steve replied, truly worried that Tony would drive himself insane. He knew that the self-made hero had a tendency to choose something and obsess over it for days, weeks, months, or even years. He watched Tony deprive himself of sleep countless times because he was obsessed with improving his suits or experimenting with different technology to find a way to protect the world. He didn't want to watch his friend do the same thing with the situation involving Emma. Tony knew that his obsessions often worried Steve, so he let the supersoldier continue, "if it would make you feel any better, come on over to the apartment for pizza. You can hang out with us until she gets home. I would've invited you if I knew she wouldn't be home for dinner, but I know Friday's are off limits when it comes to you two"

"I think I'll keep walking around for a bit," Tony acknowledged the worry in Steve's voice and met it with a level of forced tranquility, "the fresh air is helping me feel better"

"Well, where are you? I'll walk around with you for a while" Steve replied, making it obvious to Tony that he really wanted to be there if anything _did_ come of the simple walk. Steve wanted to be the one to keep Tony grounded, and he couldn't do it over the phone. He tried once before, and Tony hung up the phone, not wanting to feel so needy when the anxiety hit. Tony still remembered how long it took to pick up the pieces of shattered glass from where Steve busted into the lab. Tony thought that locking him out would be enough to keep him away, but nothing could keep Steve from the people he cared for.

"I'm just walking along the path she takes to and from school. I'm covering all my bases, here. If I find anything suspicious, I'll prepare myself for whatever comes next," he reassured Steve, not knowing that what came next would tear his whole world apart. As soon as his eyes caught sight of the shoe, the purse he had bought her after noticing her staring at it in the window of a shop, and the deep red scarf that complimented her dark brown hair so perfectly that she based entire outfits on it. Now, it was strewn across the sidewalk along with the contents of her bag. Tony's phone fell from his hand and hit the cement as he glanced over at the road to see that there were tire marks, leading him to believe that she was pulled into a vehicle, and the person or people who took her were in a hurry. Between the sidewalk and the road was a patch of grass with obvious marks from where she must've struggled and tried to claw at the Earth to pull herself away from them. The ringing in his ears died out, and he could practically hear the echo of her screams, ones that had landed on deaf ears when she was taken.

Tony Stark, the man who could always pull it together in times of uncertainty, fell to his knees.

* * *

He was quick in pulling himself together just enough to get himself back to the house with all of her belongings that had been left on the sidewalk. He was sure that if he didn't start looking for her immediately, he would never see his baby girl again. Of course, his eighteen year old daughter didn't like to be called a "baby girl" anymore, but that would always be how he saw her no matter how old she got. Tony was on autopilot as he tried to pinpoint her location with the tacking device he had implanted for circumstances like this. He never even told her about it because he was afraid that she would rebel, feeling smothered by him, but it was his way of ensuring her safety. The phone was the only thing that was missing from the bag, so he was sure she still had it on her. He worked diligently and without being distracted by anything until his eyes caught sight of a picture of Emma and himself when she was just a baby.

He smiled through the tears in his eyes. That was one of his most vivid memories. It was taken in their first home, the one he wanted to raise her in. It was nothing special, and it certainly wasn't as extravagant as the mansion they lived in now. She was just over 13 months old, and he held her in his arms. He had been swaying back and forth with her to the song she loved throughout the years, "What A Wonderful World". He remembered dancing only with the women he loved the most in this world. He danced with his mother, his first girlfriend, Emma's mother, Pepper, and Emma. He loved each of those women, and he lost each of those women. The picture of him dancing with Emma in the living room was taken by his best friend, Edwin Jarvis, who died when Emma was still young, leaving Tony to take care of his little princess all alone.

The peaceful picture came to life in front of him, his own memory playing before his eyes in the midst of all the chaos. He could still hear her laugh, the one that never died no matter what else died within her. She was tainted by the world at such a young age, the cruel hand of fate taking her mother and giving her a workaholic father who solved problems with alcohol. No matter how much anger and cruelty this world showed her, she still smiled, she still laughed, and she still loved so freely. She was everything Tony strived to be, and she was everything he ever needed in his life. Seeing the picture and hearing her laughter in the depths of his mind only pushed Tony to work harder to find her.

Of course, he wasn't too focused to not hear the door open, but he ignored it like he did the first question out of Steve's mouth. Let's be honest, though, Tony ignored a lot that came out of Steve's mouth. It wasn't surprising to him that the members of his team were at his house, but it was certainly surprising how fast they made it there. If Emma's safety was ever called into question, he had been certain that everyone would pull together, and here they were. Clint stood behind him, a strong hand gripping Tony's tense shoulder as he worked. Clint had always been there in the worst moments, offering that quiet support that Tony always seemed to need. Emma and Clint were close, but nothing could compare to the bond Emma and Steve had. It made Stars n' Stripes easier for Tony to tolerate, knowing that Emma loved him as much as she did. In moments where Steve's life was put in jeopardy, Emma would pace and do everything in her power to make sure he was brought home safely. Now that the tables were turned, Tony could see the effect her absence had on the supersoldier. He got quiet-unnaturally quiet. Those fearful blue eyes were so clear that Tony could practically witness the flashback playing in them-the time when Steve lost everything on that train.

If Tony hadn't been so immersed in his work-as he usually was-it would've been him, instead of Bruce, to offer Steve some comforting words. Of course, Tony's deliverance of the speech would've been similar but less elegant. Somehow, though, the man who was known for his anger was the one with the best ability to calm others, and that smooth voice was one of the ways he did that. Bruce pulled Steve away from the situation, murmuring quiet words to him in the corner of the workshop, words Tony couldn't make out, but he didn't mind. As he got closer to unlocking the tracking device in her phone, it would be a lie to say he cared about anything else _but_ that.

Suddenly, the ringtone coming from his phone pulled the attention of everyone in the room. Emma had chosen her favorite song as her ringtone on her father's phone. It was the song they danced to, the song he sang to her whenever she was sad, the song he danced to with Emma's mother the night they fell in love. All of those memories flooded back in that moment as he scrambled for his phone, answering the call. He didn't even had the chance to greet the caller before a gruff male voice began speaking, "good evening, Mr. Stark"

The sorrow that Emma's absence brought diminished as the new fear surfaced. Even though he knew she had been taken, hearing the stranger's voice only cemented that theory in reality. He pulled the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker, wanting everyone else to hear exactly what he was about to hear, "who is this?" he asked, his voice trembling just as much as the rest of his body was.

The stranger laughed before he spoke, "who _I_ am doesn't matter, it's who _we_ are. We are aware of what you're trying to do. Once this phone call is finished, we'll be disposing of the phone, and we will move on. You're going to want to use all the time you have wisely, so I'll keep this phone call brief. Seeing as how you're trying so diligently to track this phone, you must already know that we have your daughter. We are asking for a simple payment in return for your daughter. Your life in exchange for hers. If you turn yourself over to Hydra, we will let her go with...minimal harm done," he said, and Tony could hear the twisted smile on his face, which disgusted him even more. If it was truly Hydra that had his daughter, there was a very real chance that he would never see her again even if he did turn himself over. The kidnapper, sensing Tony's hesitance, continued, "think about this carefully, Mr. Stark. The longer you take to decide, the more pain she endures. Do not test us. We have no shortage of ideas. As well as your freedom, we ask that you forfeit to us all the money in your bank accounts. Failure to turn yourself over within 48 hours will result in packages in the mail containing pieces of your daughter. We look forward to hearing from you."

Tony gripped the phone tightly as everyone else in the room stood absolutely still. The tension and anticipation for what was to come left everyone stunned in absolute silence. Tony didn't mind being threatened, beaten, or tortured. However, a rage took over like never before when his daughter's health and well-being was threatened. He brought the phone closer to his reddening face, "listen here, you piece of shit. If you even _think_ about touching her, you're dead. I swear to everything that has ever been and will ever be that I will end you. You have no idea what I'm capable of when it comes to protecting the people I care about. You're threatening the one thing that means more to me than anything else, so prepare for what's about to come. You won't walk away from this. You can't find a crack or crevice on this Earth that I won't be able to find you. You fucked with the wrong father," Tony growled

An audible but muffled scream was heard in the background of the call. It was Emma. Everyone knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that it was her. Tony never knew that he could experience so many feelings at once, but he knew that the sadness, fear, and rage all stemmed from his protective instinct. In that moment, he was so overstimulated that he was frozen at the sound of her agonizing scream. After it stopped, the voice of the man was heard again, this time more menacing than before, "the cold heart of Winter is coming back for your daughter, Mr. Stark. You have 48 hours"


	2. The Soldier

***Tony's POV***

Steve was everyone's hero. Even if Tony didn't want to admit it, Steve was his hero-his annoying and too-good-all-the-time hero. He was a beacon of strength for everyone on the team and everyone who knew him. Whenever anyone started to lose it, Steve was there to ground them. Tony could remember countless times when he was on the edge, and the supersoldier would grasp his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. So many times, Steve seemed to keep everyone else from losing their control, but Tony saw a very different side of the Capsicle that day. As soon as the stranger on the other end of the phone call had dropped the name "Hydra," Tony could hear Steve's breath hitch. The unparalleled fear that clouded everyone was prominent in those blue eyes as Steve realized that he may never see his girl again. Then, he paced. For 5 hours, he was silent. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the perfectly styled blonde locks, and all Tony could do was sit in a stunned silence. It didn't take long for Steve to interrupt that silence, though, "if this really is Hydra, and they have Emma, she's in _serious _danger. It would be different if this was a group of criminals working independently, but if Hydra's behind this, we need to go about this carefully."

Tony shook his head, one stray lock of dark brown hair that fell against his forehead, bobbing back and forth. He was angry. He was livid. However, he was also scared shitless, and it showed, "they have my baby girl. I say we go in, guns blazing. We don't have time for anything else," he argued

"Then we need to make time!" Bruce interjected from the corner of the room. He was just as worried as everyone else. Tony could see the tremble in his hands before he shoved them in his pockets. It wasn't his fear that led him to snap, it was Tony's inability to listen to reason. He was growing more and more impulsive the longer this went on, and Bruce knew his best friend well enough to know that the longer they argued, the more time would be wasted, the closer they would get to killing Emma, and the more impulsive and reckless Tony would become. Bruce took a long breath, almost like he was trying to meditate in the midst of their worlds crumbling, "Steve might have a point here, Tony."

Steve continued, closing the space between Tony and himself, "all I'm saying is that I _know _the might of Hydra. I've seen what they're capable of first hand," he stated, sorrow filling his eyes, "if you _honestly _think they'll just hand her over in exchange for your life, you have a lot to learn. They're manipulative. They're evil. The best case scenario of you turning yourself in is they kill her in front of you. You gave them what they want, and they have no more use for her anymore. If we go in there "guns blazing," they'll kill her on the spot because you aren't holding up your end of the deal. We need a better plan, one that doesn't cost us a life."

Tony huffed, standing up to straighten his shoulders. He needed to look strong in that moment, or he would crumble, "we're wasting time just standing here and talking about this! I have the technology to-"

Natasha cut him off, "theirs is better!" she yelled in an exasperated voice. Tony knew that she was sick of the arguing. She always was. The bickering often led to her walking away, but she couldn't do that now, not with Emma's life on the line. She lowered her eyes as everyone became unbelievably quiet. A pin could drop in the next house, and Tony was sure they'd all be able to hear it. Her voice softened as she continued, almost like she was afraid to say what she needed to, "he said something...and I wasn't going to bring attention to it because I have no proof, but...he said that the cold heart of Winter is coming back for Emma. Maybe he was feeling poetic, but I think he was trying to cover up his true intent."

Tony's heart felt like it plummeted into his stomach when he saw the unchecked fear in Natasha's eyes, fear that had never been there before. If she didn't want someone to know how she was feeling, they didn't. She could always hide it, but then...in that moment, she couldn't, "tell me," he begged.

She glanced up at him, a look of sorrow flitted across her features, almost as if she was about to tell him that his daughter was already dead. She didn't, but she might as well have. She sighed, "he's a legend in Hydra. The Winter Soldier. Cold-hearted, brutal, meticulous. He's more a machine than he is a man. If he's being held in the same place as her, we can't take the chance to go in guns blazing. We need to be meticulous about this and think about every possible outcome to every possible course of action. If he's there, she is in _serious_ danger, more danger than any of us are prepared for. The threat of Hydra is _nothing_ compared to that of the Winter Soldier alone. Like I said, it could be nothing, but...we can't take our chances when it's her life on the line," she explained.

"We need to go in quietly. Natasha and I know all about that, and we're trained to do that. Steve doesn't have a metal suit that you can hear coming from a mile away, so it'll be the three of us" Clint explained, laying out the plan he had been formulating since the phone call. Tony listened intently, silently making his own adjustments to the plan, "they won't be keeping her at the primary base of operations because that's a liability. If she managed to escape somehow, it could compromise the entire facility. They're thinking 10 steps ahead, so we need to think 20. You and Bruce could pinpoint her exact location, while Steve, Nat, and I slip in and take them out quickly and quietly. We'll get to her, secure her, and then call for you two to finish the job. While you guys do that, we'll keep her safe. If they know we're there, they'll kill her without hesitation, and that's the last thing any of us want to happen," he finished.

Tony agreed with everything, except one little detail, "I'm going in with the two of you" he stated, almost as if he was talking about the weather and not the plan to rescue his daughter from one of the most evil organizations to grace the face of the planet. Tony pointed over at his best friend, "Bruce is more than capable to pinpoint her location on his own, but I'm going to be the one to rescue my daughter. She needed me before, and I wasn't there to save her. I can't...I can't leave anything to chance. I need to make sure she makes it home safe this time."

Natasha reached out and grasped Tony's forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was her way of showing support. She couldn't possibly understand how he was feeling, but she was doing her best to try to level with him, to understand that Emma was all he had left. Without her, Tony would be lost. Natasha's voice softened, "Tony, listen, this is one of those moments that you just need to trust us. Clint made a good point. Your suits are too bulky, and you'll make too much noise. Emma would be in _more_ danger with you in there, and you don't want that. I know you don't."

Tony shrugged it off, pulling his arm from Natasha's grasp, "then I won't wear a suit," he stated, nonchalantly, as the room around him became silent. They all knew that the suits were like his lifeline. He was more than just the suits, but they protected him and made him stronger. His will wouldn't keep him alive should someone shoot him in the head, but the suit could.

Bruce cleared his throat, "there's a high probability that you won't even make it back alive if you do that," he murmured, trying to talk some sense into the worried father.

Tony shrugged again, the action becoming a bad habit in their conversation. He was so quick to brush off his importance to the group, so quick to jump to recklessness if he thought it meant he could protect Emma. Tears welled up in his eyes, "as long as Emma is safe, I couldn't care less. I know how to fight. I know how to survive. The suits just help out," he remarked, forcing a grin that didn't last very long, "I need to be the first to know that she's safe, and I can't do that if I'm not in there with you. There's not a doubt in my mind that you could do the job just fine, but...she's my little girl. She's all I have," he stated, a stray tear falling down his cheek. He didn't try to hide it, didn't try to wipe it away. He wanted the world to know that he was a man with only one thing to lose, and she was everything.

"Fine, but you're not going alone" Clint assured him, adjusting the plan to work for Tony and his limited powers, "you'll make your way through the compound with one of us. Bruce will stay back because we don't need him hulking out, no offense," he remarked, shooting an unsteady gaze at Bruce.

"None taken," Bruce replied, smiling at Clint's ability to plan ahead. Together, they would be able to think 20 steps ahead, and Hydra wouldn't know what hit them. Bruce was always prepared for a fight, but he was always hoping for peace. In his heart of heart's, he knew that he wouldn't make it through the following 43 hours without the other guy coming out, and the only thing that had the ability to calm him was Emma. She was the one thing that could reach the Big Guy, and Bruce was thankful for that. Tony had seen it first hand, and it shocked him every single time. All she had to do was catch his gaze and smile at him. The Big Guy and Bruce had one thing in common. Neither would ever think of hurting her. Bruce continued with a renewed fervor, "if anything goes sideways or if Emma's safety is compromised, you should know that I'm throwing all precautions to the wind, though. I'll tear that place apart."

Clint's thin lips pulled up into a smile, "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Natasha grabbed Tony's hand, grasping it tightly enough to ensure he wouldn't pull away this time like he seemed to do whenever anyone tried to comfort him. While he showed resistance at first, Natasha's tearful blue eyes kept him absolutely still,"no matter what happens to any of us in there, we'll make sure she comes home safe, Tony. She's like a daughter to me, and I know it doesn't mean much, but I love her, too. I can't imagine what you're going through, but let us help. I only want what's best for her, so I promise that I will do _everything _to protect her. I don't care what that means for me as long as-"

The cell phone ringing on the table left everyone frozen in place, and Natasha's voice came to a screeching halt. All eyes in the room were suddenly on the phone. As Tony raced over to it, he felt his heart thudding against his ribcage at an alarming rate. It wouldn't have surprised him if the organ burst through his chest at that point. Hell, for a moment, he even forgot he had a heart left after what he had been through. As if he was on autopilot, he answered the phone and immediately put it on speakerphone for the rest of the team to hear. He didn't want to miss anything, and if he did, he knew that one of the other members of his team would pick up what he missed. It wasn't from Emma's phone. Instead, it was a number he didn't recognize. It was them.

Before Tony even got the chance to speak, that familiar voice from 5 hours ago took the initiative to talk first, "speak to your father" he demanded.

"Dad?" Emma's soft voice came from the other end of the line.

That was all it took to make it real for Tony. He knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that Emma was in terrible danger, and her frightened voice was all it took. Still, the sound of her voice was enough to breathe life back into him. At least she was alive. He clenched the phone tightly, "oh my god, baby, are you okay?" he asked.

She hesitated, and she said everything she needed to in the silence, "I'm...I'm okay. I'm not dead, which is a bonus, I guess" she added, trying to laugh it off and lighten the mood for her father. Tony knew that she wasn't concerned with her own safety as much as she was about his emotional state. He knew that she was trying to minimize her own pain to keep him from feeling too worried about her, but he could hear the strain in her voice when she spoke. He could feel her pain as if it were his own.

Tony fought back the flood of tears that was threatening to break down the dam holding them back, but he couldn't show just how weak he was. He couldn't let her hear the fear in his voice. He had to be strong for her like she was for him. He had to be her father in that moment. He clenched his fist so tightly he was sure he would dislocate a finger or two, "honey, listen to me, I know you're scared. You just need to trust me when I tell you that you're going to be okay. I love you so much, and I won't let them hurt you anymore. I'm gonna bring you home, okay? I promise, I'll make everything better," he assured her, unsure that he would actually be able to live up to that promise.

He heard her sniffle on the other end of the line, and all Tony wanted to do was reach out and wipe away her tears. When she was a child, she would crawl into his arms and sit with him as she cried, and he would rub circles into her back as he whispered how strong she was. She wasn't one to cry, though. As she got older, as she experienced the pain and suffering of the world around her, she hardened. Her tears were few and far between, and they only happened in the most dire circumstances. Her soft whimper was enough to tear him apart, "I love you, too, dad...that's why I need _you_ to trust _me_," she urged him, determination clear in her voice. God, she was his daughter. She continued, "don't come here. Don't turn yourself in. Let them kill me. It's a trap!" she blurted out quickly before there was a scuffle and she was pulled away from the phone. Tony could hear the distance grow between her and the phone. Still, she screamed at him not to come to her, not to save her, but instead, to let her die.

"Take her to the box!" the stranger barked out his order before turning his attention back to the phone call. All Tony could hear were her desperate screams and pleas to spare her from "the box." Shivers tore through his body as he listened to her being dragged away, and he felt helpless.

The tears fell from his eyes at an alarming rate, "don't take her away! Please! Don't hurt her. I'll give you whatever you want, but..._please_!" Tony begged through the sobs that racked through his body.

"For her little stunt, you have 24 hours left," the stranger remarked, ignoring Tony's plea to spare his daughter. Then, the phone call ended. The screams stopped, and the room was quiet again.

Tony clenched his fists and hung his head down. He had been planning on 43 more hours. When he was given the 48 hour deadline, it was 6 o'clock. It was now nearing 11 o'clock at night, but now he had until the following night to find her and save her. His worst fears rose in his chest. He wanted to know what they were doing to her-what kind of pain they were putting her through-so that he could insure they suffered the same way. As he tried to block out the screams that played over and over and over again, he realized that his efforts would be in vain. As the tears continued, he buried his face in his hands, wiping the tears before dropping the phone on the table.

The man who could always pull it together fell apart again as he let out a yell and swiped his arm across the table. At one point, it had been filled with her drawings. She was always glued right to his side, so whenever he worked in the lab, she was down there with him. She'd draw and paint and leave the pictures on the table. Now, many of those pictures were framed and hung around the house, while the rest were in a book of memories. One picture in particular was hung right next to his collection of suits. It was a drawing of a metal man. Nearly eight years before the Jericho missile demonstration, when Emma was only 5 years old, she had drawn that picture. Little did Tony know at the time, her idea would be the thing that saved his life, and he would credit her forever for that.

As he continued to throw things off the table, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint all remained silent. Steve, on the other hand, could never watch. When Tony began tearing apart the workplace in a fiery rage, Emma's screams fueling his fear and anger, Steve couldn't sit idly by. Tony was stopped abruptly as a pair of strong hands caught his wrists. The billionaire struggled against the supersoldier in a desperate attempt to break free and destroy more of his things. During his stints of depression and anxiety, Tony often yearned to feel something-_anything_. However, this was the only thing he didn't want to feel. As Steve held onto Tony, he spoke, "stop, Tony! Stop! This isn't helping!"

"She needs me!" Tony yelled, tears streaming down his face. That was when he gave up the struggle and began breaking down even more, "they're hurting her, and she needs me!" he cried, hiding his face from one of the only people who would never judge him for a human emotion.

Tony noticed a tear stream down Steve's cheek before the soldier pulled him into a strong and warm embrace. It was what Tony needed. He needed to be comforted, to be reassured that everything would be okay because he couldn't do that for himself in that moment, "she needs you. She needs all of us, and the only way we're going to find her is if we all put on a brave face and do what needs to be done to ensure her safety. You're the only one who can hack into her tracker. You were the one who encrypted it, and you're the only one who can hack back into it. She needs you to be strong for her, and I know you well enough to know that you're capable of it. You're one of the strongest people I know, Tony, and you're the last person I'd wish this on. However, if _anyone_ can make it through this, it's you. So, what comes next?" Steve asked.

Tony cleared his throat, stepping away from Steve. He collected himself just enough to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Steve had a point, a good one. Tony knew that much. He knew that if he failed to pull himself together, he could lose his Emma forever. Tony glanced around at everyone, quieting their fears. They wouldn't bring up this incident again, but he has to assure them that he would be fine for the time being. His main concern was Emma. He could cry when she was safe, "if I can hack the tracking device in her phone, I could find out where they dropped it off," Tony realized aloud as he sat down at the computer behind him.

"What do you need us to do?" Bruce asked as everyone closed in on the table to surround him with their support.

Tony shook his head, beginning the process he was talking about. Hacking her phone was the very first step into finding his daughter, and the renewed drive he had made him work harder than ever, "nothing yet. Emma was taken around 3:30 this afternoon-give or take two minutes. She's always had a _very_ precise schedule, so the kidnappers knew where they could find her at the exact time. She left school at 3 o'clock, talked to her AP Calculus teacher until 3:10, and then she left the building. At her relaxed walking speed, it would've taken her 20 minutes to reach the spot she was taken. If she was spooked, she could've walked a bit quicker, but I don't think that happened because whenever she was concerned, she would call me. If I can find out where her phone was, I can track how far they travelled between the time she was taken and the time they called. Plus, it should be fairly simple to figure out their direction since the tracking device keeps a history of 24 hours," he explained, feeling the slightly judgemental gaze he received from his team. He was well aware that it was because of the tracker he had implanted in her phone, and he suddenly felt the need to explain himself, "I did it shortly before she went on her date with that punk kid. I didn't anticipate keeping it, but I'm glad I did. After we find it, we can find out their approximate speed, and we'll check all nearby facilities that they could be located at. It would have to be a facility large enough and inconspicuous enough to house an entire Hydra operation. Bruce can look into the nearby facilities, and Steve, Natasha, and Clint, you can do some surveillance. Nothing up close and personal, but we need eyes on these places. Until we track down the phone, though, we're still up shit's creek without-"

Tony was cut off when all of the screens in front of him turned black. Clint furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head, "what did you do?"

Tony shrugged his shoulders, looking for any way to turn the screens back on, "I don't know. This isn't part of the protocol."

"Tony, I think it's time for you to leave," Natasha murmured, a stoic look on her face that Tony could see in her reflection on the screens. Her eyes were cold, hard, emotionless. That was what happened when the Black Widow was truly terrified.

Before Tony could even begin to wonder what her words meant, the screens flipped back on. Each screen showcased the same view of Emma strapped down to a chair. For a moment, her movement was so still that Tony wondered if it was only a picture meant to provoke him. However, as fate would have it, Tony wouldn't be so lucky. Instead, he had to watch as one of her kidnappers walked toward her. Emma quaked and shook her head. A gag was fixed in her mouth to keep her from speaking and to muffle her screams. It wasn't until her kidnapper pulled the gag out and tossed it to the side, that it was abundantly clear that this was meant to break Tony.

For 20 minutes, the team stayed completely still as they watched Emma being tortured. The men on the other end cut her, held her head under the water until the last possible second, beat her, whipped her, and hurt her in ways Tony could've only imagined. All they could do was sit and watch as she was hurt in the most brutal ways and listen as she tried to muffle the grunts and cries of pain and anguish. It was a sound the billionaire would never forget. She was strong, though. Tony saw that in her. In her moments of pain and desperation, she never broke for them. Instead, she would spit blood out onto the floor and hold her head up, looking them straight in the eyes. She was strong, fierce, and made to withstand anything. Tony never saw his daughter like that, but he was now. In all her vulnerability, he could see the fire in her eyes that had always been there but that he didn't _want _to see.

"You...will never win," Emma hissed through her staggered breaths. She had taken a beating that would've broken anyone and should've left her broken, but the outrage in her own brown eyes never left. Her kidnapper was just as surprised by her comment as Tony was. As he turned around to glare at her, she laughed, "I hope you know what you've started."

Emma's kidnapper scoffed before looking behind him to a team of Hydra operatives, "get the soldier, and get her out of that chair so that he can have his fun. Now!'

Tony watched as those big brown eyes filled with fear, which she quickly tried to cover up. He wanted nothing more than to be there to hold her, to protect her. However, the moment Tony saw a glistening metal arm was the moment Natasha's breath caught in her throat, and a breathless, "no," escaped from her lips. It was nothing more than a whisper, but everyone heard it. Before that moment, the team was sure they had seen it all, like Emma couldn't have possibly been hurt more.

They were wrong.

* * *

***Emma's POV***

Everything hurt. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire, but she knew that she couldn't let it get the best of her. The box became a place of pain and torture. That was what she knew it as. Whenever she spoke up or talked back-which was more often than not-she was dragged off to the box where she would be met by "The Soldier." She had only been in their custody for nearly 8 hours, but during that time, the fierceness within her refused to lay dormant. Instead, it lit a fire in her heart. What if this was what she was meant to do? What if she was meant to die fighting Hydra? Thousands of similar thoughts crossed her mind as she tried to find the strength to push herself up off the cold concrete floor.

The strength didn't find her until the metal door swung open and that all-too-familiar shadow loomed in the doorway. The metal arm caught every piece of light it could, shining through the darkness. If she wasn't in a constant fight for her life, she would've taken the time to admire the arm and the technology that went into making it. As the soldier began to close the space between Emma and himself, the adrenaline helped her lift her body only partly off the cold floor. Before she could manage to sit up, the intense pain in her left shoulder caused her arms to buckle, and she fell back to the floor. She quaked and trembled like a leaf in the wind. She refused to look at him as she clenched her jaw, "did you miss me?" she snickered through her fear, "because I sure missed you."

The soldier moved quietly, like a shadow. If he wasn't right in front of her, she was sure she wouldn't even see him. As he knelt down in front of her, she couldn't help the shiver trailing down her spine. His presence did that to her. She didn't even know what his entire face looked like, but those eyes were haunting and mysterious. There were moments when his gaze shook her to her very core, but this was...different. Her eyes caught his, and it was like he was a completely different person. She had noticed the conflict in his eyes when he hurt her, when he was forced to beat her. She was attentive enough to sense his agony when the metal hand came down hard against her cheek. She didn't understand it, but there was a war in his mind.

Before she could process the look in his eyes, he scooped her fragile and feather-light body up into his strong arms. For the first time since she'd been there, she felt safe. She didn't know how she could possibly feel safe with the soldier, but she did. In the very pit of her stomach, she knew that she had nothing left to fear from him. His gentleness as he carried her only proved that her assumptions were true. He walked gracefully, as if he was purposefully trying not to make any sudden or harsh movements to cause her anymore pain. She furrowed her thick eyebrows as she gazed up at the soldier, the muzzle still tight against the lower half of his face. She could see his eyes, though. They were the color of the ocean during a storm, but there was a warmth in them when he carried her. He didn't even glance down at her, but she could feel the warmth, like a blanket in the winter.

He carried her through the seemingly deserted halls, staring straight ahead. When he reached a small metal door, he turned around and pushed it open with his back. Once the door was closed and they were inside, Emma had little time to take in her surroundings, but it was more than enough time to realize that this was a bedroom the size of a broom closet. There were three candles lit on the nightstand, illuminating the room around them. To the untrained eye, the candles would've been illuminating nothing but blank walls, but Emma noticed the scratches on the wall next to his bed. The letter "B" had been scratched into the wall a fair number of times, but it looked like it was covered up more than once.

The bed itself was a double. She could remember sleeping on a double mattress with Natasha once when she was ill and her father wasn't there to comfort her. Natasha sat in bed with Emma and stroked her hair back whilst singing an old Russian lullaby. Before the master assassin could leave, Emma had clung to her and fallen asleep, making it almost impossible for Natasha to excuse herself for the night. While Emma knew Natasha could've found a way to escape without waking her, the notoriously "heartless" redhead curled up in bed with the sick teen and reserved herself to the fact that she had unwittingly become a mother in the eyes of the younger, honorary Avenger.

The soldier laid her on the bed, gingerly. He was careful not to move her too much and cause even more pain. Emma felt a pang of fear as she stared up at the man looming over her. She was on a bed-_his_ bed-and she couldn't help the fear that he could've been tasked with a new way of hurting her. Almost as quickly as that thought came to her, it disappeared when he reached into the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a first aid kit. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched every movement of his own hands as he opened the first aid kit. She gazed up at him, studying the way his eyes darted back and forth as he searched through the contents of the kit. He reached inside and pulled out cleaning supplies and butterfly stitches before moving the kit to the side.

She laid completely still, staring up at him. For the first time since she'd been at the facility, she didn't flinch when he moved his hand toward her. As he wiped the dried blood from her face, neck, shoulders, and arms, her eyes fluttered closed. There was something about the way his skin felt against hers that sent shivers down her spine. What was she supposed to make of it. His touch was gentle where it had once been brutal and filled with anger and rage. As he placed one of the butterfly stitches to the cut on her forehead, the cool metal brushed against her burning hot skin, nearly making her jump. However, the warmth of his human hand calmed her. He didn't have to say a single word or make a sound because his touch made her feel at ease all on its own.

When he finished, Emma's eyes fluttered open once more. Their eyes locked, and she didn't dare break that heavy gaze between the two of them. She felt everything in those blue eyes. She was drowning, but it felt like the first time she could actually breathe. Everything contradicted itself in those eyes. Everything was wrong, but everything was right. When he finally glanced back down at the first aid kit, she found herself reaching out for him. Her fingers rested on the metal arm, the cool surface reminding her of her father's iron suits. The outside was cold to the touch, but inside the suit was a man who made her feel so much love. The similarity was uncanny when it came to the soldier. He was cold and harsh, but she could see the conflict and the warmth within him. The arm was just a symbol of that. As she gazed at the arm, her eyes filled with tears, thinking about what must've happened to him, "they hurt you, too," she murmured, trying desperately to swallow back her own sorrow.

The soldier wasted no time in casting his eyes away from her in shame. He slid off the bed and knelt down on the floor once more, tucking the first aid kit back into the nightstand. The soldier kept his hands busy to avoid the conversation he wouldn't be able to take part in. Emma knew that it was like when people showed you pity, but that wasn't what she meant to do with him. She wanted to show him empathy. In his clear shame, Emma could see how broken he was. She could see glimpses of the man he was before all of this, and it hurt her heart. That was what broke her. It was a lost and broken soul-not her imprisonment or the torture or the threats.

As soon as the warm and salty tears streamed down Emma's face, the soldier took notice. It was as if he was completely in tune with everything about her. She watched as his eyebrows pulled together, and his eyes filled with grief. As he searched frantically for something to calm her, she stopped him as she grabbed his human hand. Her bare skin against his made everything seem better. Her heart-while it was torn apart-was whole for that moment. He stopped every movement and stared down into Emma's eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful. She watched her own reflection in his eyes, and she saw a completely different person. She was strong, fierce, brave, and...beautiful. As she held his hand, he gave her slender fingers a light squeeze of reassurance.

Without thinking of the consequences, Emma raised her free hand and reached out for his face. She just wanted to see him, to take off that stupid muzzle and witness what was underneath. As she reached out, his eyes widened, and he caught her wrist in his grip. His metal fingers wrapped so tightly around her wrist that she was sure it would snap the bone. The pressure was nearly unbearable, but she remained calm. She hadn't meant to scare him, but the soldier reacted like a mistreated dog instead of a human being. Letting go of his other hand, she reached out to his metal fingers, loosening them one by one. He watched each movement carefully and precisely. She moved with a grace and fluidity he'd never seen before, and it was obvious just because of how mesmerized he was by her.

Before she reached back to his face, not wanting to risk another outburst, she caught his gaze with her own. His eyes were softer and gentler than only a moment ago. He reached up and brushed some of the remaining tears from her cheeks as he stared into her eyes with a passion she'd never seen before. She swallowed hard, trying to find her last bit of courage that hid deep down within her. Clint showed her how to dig that out at one point. Even though her father was Tony Stark, she didn't receive his courage and outgoing nature. Instead, she inherited the quiet and shy traits from her mother, so it was Clint, her shy and quiet "uncle," who taught her how to find her own strength in moments like these.

Emma reached forward slowly, making sure not to make too many sudden movements. She didn't want to frighten the soldier again. When she noticed him pulling away, she stopped, "I won't hurt you," she promised, "I just want to see you."

The soldier's eyes locked with hers, and there was a silent understanding of what was about to happen. As she reach forward, he no longer pulled away. Instead, he leaned toward her to meet her hand. As soon as her fingers touched the muzzle, she pulled it off, wanting to waste no time when it came to seeing him. She was far more curious than ever before. She just wanted to see his face, to see the man they tried to hide. As soon as the muzzle was off, she brushed his long brown hair back, tucking it behind his ears, and she rested her hand against his smooth cheek.

For the first time in his life, the soldier leaned into someone's touch. His eyes fluttered closed, and Emma finally felt the undeniable connection they had to one another. She felt comforted around him even after everything that happened. Her thumb stroked his cheek and ghosted across his lips as she studied every inch of his face. She'd never even seen something so tragically beautiful. He was hurt, but he was kind. She could see the sorrow and pain written across his face. The frown was etched onto his pink lips. They looked so soft and welcoming. With the tips of her fingers, Emma traced the features of his face. She ran her fingers along his brown bone, his cheek bones, his jaw, his nose-everything. She committed the feeling of his skin to memory, never wanting to forget that one moment. It was a moment of peace in the chaos of this place, and she had him to thank for that.

As she studied him, he gazed down at her, his eyes filling with wonder and curiosity. It was clear to Emma that no one had ever reacted to his presence quite like she had. There was a fleeting feeling of embarrassment, but it disappeared as she tried to figure out why she was even reacting the way she was. It hit her like a brick wall when she finally realized it, when she finally felt the fire come to life within her. Emma's heart hurt because she didn't understand how people could possibly overlook what she was seeing in that moment, a man so beautiful and so fragile, but yet so strong and rough. She smiled up at him, tears of unparalleled emotion filling her eyes. She didn't know what was taking over, but it felt good, "you are so beautiful," she confessed.

She watched him with amusement as his cheeks turned a deep red. He glanced away from her, bashful about the compliment she just handed to him. He clearly hadn't been subject to much human interaction, and his reaction made her smile even more. Emma's hand found his human one and gave it a gentle tug in the direction of the bed. She could see the hesitance in his eyes, so she gave his hand a firm squeeze, "it's okay," she reassured him as she scooted closer to the wall to allow him a comfortable amount of space. To her amazement, he crawled into the bed right next to her. For some time, they laid facing each other, drinking the other one in. She was in awe of him, and she wondered if he was just as overcome with emotion as she was.

While he caved and made the initial move to climb into bed with her, she pushed herself even further. She didn't hold back when she curled up next to him, their bodies pressed against one another. For the first time in her life, it felt right. This wasn't desperation or insecurity. She nestled into his warm embrace as if he was the last ray of light shining through the darkness. She knew from the bottom of her heart that he didn't want to hurt her, that the man she was seeing wasn't the same one she had seen in the Box earlier. From the moment they met, she saw the soldier battling with himself. She saw the grief in his eyes every time he had to hurt her, and she understood that this was a life he was forced to live, not the one he chose. She made her decision as she laid in bed, breathing in the scent of him-metal, charcoal, and honey. It was a strange combination, but Emma couldn't deny how attractive it was.

She decided that even if it killed her, she would find a way to get him out of that hell hole. She would find a way to save him from this. Knowing that they hurt him, hurt her more than her torture.

His metal arm was wrapped around her waist tightly, leaving her little to no room for movement. She understood it, though. She was thankful for the way he held her as it was the way everyone deserved to be held. He held onto her like she was his last memory or his last breath. She felt protected, safe, secure in his strong arms. Her head rested on his chest, and her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Emma's dark brown hair cascaded across his torso, but he kept it out of her face with his free hand. He pushed every stray hair back and tucked it behind her ear before continuing to run his fingers along her warm skin. His touch was so comforting that it began to lull her to sleep. Before she faded away into the darkness, she heard his deep and gentle voice, "I'm sorry...Emma."


	3. Bucky

The soldier's steady breathing kept the nightmares away while Emma slept. It didn't take long for the gunshots to wake the soldier. He was familiar with the sound. Hearing the gunshots was just as natural for him as hearing his own heartbeat. Emma had found the soldier's heartbeat a lullaby in itself, and when its pace quickened at the sound of shots, so did hers. Even as she slept, the soldier stared up at the ceiling, running through the various scenarios, and only one scenario concluded with a happy ending. The soldier knew nothing of happy endings, though, so this would be a first. Emma woke as his fingers danced across her cheek, pushing her hair from her face. As soon as she heard the gunfire, her eyes widened, and she shot up in the bed, pain radiating through her body where she had been beaten the day before.

Her worried brown eyes darted over to the soldier who seemed to know exactly what they had woken up to. She wanted-more than anything-to wake up with him to a peaceful day and escape Hydra together, but that was more like a fairytale than a possible scenario. She wasn't naive enough to believe that things would turn out well for both of them, and she was willing to sacrifice everything to make sure they ended well for the nameless soldier, "what's going on?" she asked, frantically.

"Your people are here for you," the soldier answered, standing up from the bed, "I have to get you to safety. Kyr will be looking for you to use you as leverage against your father. We need to leave," he explained, holding out his hand for her to take. Emma took it, standing up from the bed.

While she gained her balance, the soldier suited up for what was about to come. She was aware that it could be a bloodbath, that her people would show no mercy until they got her back. The one thing she didn't want was for the soldier to get caught in the crossfire. Her people would see him as an enemy, and the other Hydra operatives would see him as a traitor for protecting her. As the soldier reached out for his gun, Emma's hand intercepted his. She didn't like the look in his eyes. He was willing to do anything and everything to protect her. He showed so much conviction in a single glance. He was ready to kill everyone just to save her. The look frightened Emma, and as she stepped between him and the rifle, his gaze softened to the same intense passion from the previous night.

Emma's lips twisted up into a genuine and beautiful smile, the warmth of which radiated through the entire room. She reached out for both of his hands and grasped them tightly. She tried desperately to blink away the tears in her eyes, not wanting to think of the sacrifices he would try to make for her. Sensing her fear, the soldier pulled her slender body into his strong arms, holding her against his chest. She buried her face into his strong chest, melting in his arms. She was sure that if her knees gave out, she wouldn't move an inch, not with him holding her the way he was. His metal arm was locked around her waist while his human hand cradled her head against him.

After breathing in the familiar scent of him, she felt her heartbeat slow down, the anxiety about the upcoming situation dying away. She gazed up into those blue eyes, the color of the summer sky. His hand cupped her cheek, and he offered her a reassuring smile, sensing her fear. He was just as desperate to explore their connection as she was, but he was just as unsure of how to go about it as she was. She could sense the conflict in him, almost as if he had never experienced any human contact in his life. Without hesitation or warning, the soldier pressed his forehead against hers, their noses brushing against each others. Emma couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering around in her stomach, "you never told me your name," she murmured.

"Bucky," the soldier answered, a look of pride clear in his eyes.

Emma smiled, the name sounding familiar to her heart, like she knew him from the beginning of time. It was why she was so drawn to him in the first place, why he didn't scare her the way others had. She recognized his soul. She pulled her forehead away from his, tilting her head to meet his eyes. She bit her bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that tugged at her lips whenever she looked at him, "well, Bucky...don't do anything too reckless out there. We're gonna make it out of this together or not at all," she insisted.

She could feel Bucky's body tensing up beneath her touch. His metal arm tightened around her as his breath quickened. He was...anxious. She sensed it right away and reached up to brush the stray strands of dark hair from his face, her fingers brushing against his skin as light as a summer breeze. Bucky sighed, "if anything happens to me, you run and don't look back. Understand?"

Her full brows furrowed as her eyes flickered across every inch of his face, desperately trying to find a hint of insincerity in his words. She hoped that he was just joking-something her father did to lighten the mood in some of the most serious situations. She could find no indication that Bucky was anything but absolutely and completely serious, and she felt her heart sink, like someone tied her feet to a cement block and threw her into the ocean. It felt like she couldn't breathe. She shook her head, suddenly angry with him for even putting the doubt in her mind. She pushed herself away from him and out of his warm embrace even as he tried to hold her close, "no! I'm not leaving here without you. We leave together, or we don't leave at all!" she dictated again, a fire in her brown eyes.

"You have no idea what we're up against. I do," he stated, trying to level with her. Emma knew that he was just trying to get her to understand his reasoning, but she was far beyond reason at that point. She didn't want to hear him justifying what he said because she refused to believe that she would have to watch him die. If it came to that, she was prepared to die by his side, but she wouldn't leave him. He continued his explanation when he saw that she was refusing to listen to reason. She saw that he didn't want to be brutally honest with her, but he couldn't make her understand any other way. He stepped closer to her, his gaze softening to make up for his harsh words, "I don't plan on making it out of this alive, Emma."

"Well, you better change your plans because I'll _die _trying to get you out of here. You're not staying here. I won't let you. I won't let you die either. I can't," she ranted, the anger within her only growing with each word. Her chest rose and fell almost as fast as her rapid heartbeat. Hot tears stung her eyes as she watched him take a breath to argue his point once more. She stepped closer to him, narrowing her eyes as a burning passion filled her chest, "for you to ask that of me, to just leave you behind, is selfish and...and stupid. You don't know what you're asking me to do!"

"Emma, just listen to me!" Bucky nearly yelled as his hands gripped her shoulders. It was hard enough to keep her still, but he wasn't rough with her; he would never be rough with her. His blue eyes deepened, engulfing her almost completely, "if I can't make it out of here alive-if fate has other plans for me-I'll only be able to die happy if I know that you're safe. I just don't understand why you can't follow my orders."

"Because I'm not a soldier!" she yelled in exasperation as she pushed him away. Bucky stumbled back but caught himself, and she was left in shock at her burst of strength. Even though it was a surprise, she wasted no time in continuing, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears as quickly as they fell, "and fate doesn't have any other plans for you. You're not meant to be here, and you're not meant to die. You're meant to make it out of here. You're meant to be safe...with _me_. I can't let you die, Bucky, not after everything else I've lost. I can't lose you, too. I can't."

As another tear fell, Bucky reached out and cradled her face in his hands. A piece of Emma wanted to pull away, wanted to keep yelling at him for being so oblivious, but when he held her, she felt like he understood. As the tears began to dry, Bucky murmured soft apologies as he wiped every stray one from her cheeks. For a fleeting moment, Emma imagined what her life would be like if they escaped together. She imagined a life with Bucky by her side every step of the way. She didn't need to get to know him more to know that they were made to find each other. He wasn't was Emma was looking for. In fact, Bucky was probably the polar opposite of what she thought she wanted. She always pictured her soulmate to be tall with blonde hair and emerald green eyes. What she pictured was completely destroyed when she met Bucky, and she regretted none of it.

As she gazed up into his eyes, she leaned forward, pushing herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek. She cupped the opposite side of his face with her hand to keep him steady. As she lingered there for longer than even she expected to, she wondered what his reaction would be to a few more kisses. The feeling of his skin against her lips drove her wild, and the sudden heat radiating from his body told her that he could be feeling something very similar. His skin was smooth against her lips, and when pulled away from the innocent kiss, she pressed her cheek against his, yearning for any form of contact. He was warm and soft and strong.

When she finally leaned back to gaze into his eyes, it was almost bittersweet. She knew that this could be the last moment they spent alone together. She knew that once they walked out that door, she could be killed or-even worse-he could be killed. This could be her very last moment of happiness, and his eyes mirrored her emotions, like he was feeling the exact same thing. She noticed the hint of redness on his cheeks and smiled at his bashfulness. Not wanting to call too much attention to it, she turned to walk over to the door and begin the war that laid ahead of them. Before she could take a single step, those cool metal fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her. When she turned around to question the soldier about his reasons for stopping her, that's when he took her breath away.

With one fluid motion, Bucky's lips were pressed firmly against hers. His hands gripped her face, steadying her, and in turn, steadying himself. He dumped every ounce of passion and heartbreak and uncertainty into the kiss, and Emma was caught off guard by everything about it. She hadn't expected him to kiss her, but...damn, she wanted it! She didn't expect to feel his pain and fear, but she was glad she did because she wanted to silence those thoughts. To quiet his fears, she filled the kiss with the optimism and determination and passion she always had. As he wrapped his metal arm around her waist and cradled her face with his human hand, she melted into him, arching her body into his. Even in the midst of all the chaos, everything felt right, and Emma realized that her life would be empty without him.

A small explosion pulled them back to reality, and they pulled away from each other. Bucky smiled down at the visibly delirious young woman, and she wondered if she was as intoxicating to him as he was to her. As Bucky picked up his rifle, he held one out to Emma, and she shook her head, "if I need a gun, I'll take one," she assured him, feeling the adrenaline pumping. She could feel the power surging through her veins, and she knew that she would be strong enough to fight. Bucky nodded his head, smirking at her comment before returning the muzzle back to his face where it had been the previous night. His eyes hardened as soon as the mask was on, but she knew why he was doing it. Hydra would know that he went rogue if he wasn't wearing the muzzle, and he was taking the precautions. Right before he opened the door, Emma reached out to grab his metal arm. His cold eyes met hers and softened immediately, "we're leaving here together...no matter what it takes."

Then, he opened the door with one swift motion. She watched him as he looked both directions down the long hallway to see that they were empty. The sound of hurried footsteps came from both directions, though, and they echoed on the metal floor, making it almost impossible to tell how close they were. Knowing that they would have to go toward the danger to reach her family and safety, Emma desperately wanted to step in front of Bucky in order to take the brunt of whatever would lie ahead, but there was no way he'd let that happen-she was sure of it. Staying close behind him as they moved through the hallways, Emma could hear the whirring in his metal arm, brought on by-what she guessed-was anxiety.

As the shooting became louder, Emma felt her blood pumping through her veins. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, and her entire body trembled. Bucky shot down every Hydra operative who even looked her way. He was lethal. When they turned the final corner into the mess hall, she saw Clint, Natasha, and her father. Realizing quickly that he wasn't in his suit, that he was the most vulnerable one out of anyone in the facility, Emma broke out into a full sprint to him. She could feel Bucky right behind her. Before they hit the set of metal stairs to lead up to the balcony, Bucky grabbed her waist, pulling her to the side and using his metal arm to deflect a bullet meant for her chest. After her savior put a bullet through the Hydra operatives throat, she hesitated before running up the stairs, "remind me to thank you for that when we get out of here," she stated, a light smile spreading across her lips before she hurried up the stairs with him on her heels.

With only one Hydra operative between her and her father, Emma watched as Clint threw him off the balcony and onto the concrete floor below. The moment her eyes connected with her father's was a moment of pure joy. She was sure she'd never see him alive again, but there he was. Before she could run to him, to melt into the arms of the man who chased away the monsters in her closet when she was young, his eyes flickered over to the man at her side. Her soldier. Her Bucky. She'd never seen a man with as much hate and abhorrence in his eyes as her father in that very moment. Tony broke away from Clint and Natasha, his eyes locking on Bucky, "you're the one who helped torture my daughter. I'm gonna kill you, you piece of shit!" he yelled, aiming his gun at the soldier. Natasha and Clint raised their weapons as well with just as much anger present in their eyes.

Without hesitation, Emma stepped between Bucky and her family, acting as a shield, "_NO_! Don't hurt him!" she shouted, desperate for them to hear her and to listen. Tears rushed to her eyes as she had hoped this would lead to a happy ending. She didn't want to think that she'd come so close to escaping with Bucky only to have the people she loved the most massacre him in front of her. She couldn't watch him die.

Tony stepped forward, not showing a single sign that he would lower his weapon, "Honey, get out of the way," he demanded in a low voice, keeping his eyes locked on Bucky.

"No! I won't let you hurt him!" she dictated, standing strong against her father and the people who had been a part of her life for what seemed like forever. Her body trembled with fear and uncertainty and so much adrenaline, but she pushed it aside as she felt the helplessness sink in. She needed to make them understand because she refused to lose Bucky, "please, just...trust me," she begged.

Stepping to the side, Tony took a clear shot at Bucky. For Emma, it felt like it happened in slow motion, almost like they were in a movie. She reached out as if doing so would somehow stop the bullet or stop him even though he had already pulled the trigger. As the gunshot rang out, bouncing off the metal and concrete walls, Emma heard the audible gasp from everyone on the balcony. Then, there was absolute and utter silence. Following their line of sight, she realized what happened. A violet mist enveloped the bullet in the middle of the air, stopping it completely. The same violet mist radiated around her hand, twisting and turning like the wind in the spring. Her jaw dropped, wondering what was happening. She had always known of some strange occurrences with her, but she'd certainly never disclosed them to her father, afraid that he would be even more protective of her than he already was. She knew that she wasn't normal, but she didn't know just how abnormal she was until that very moment.

As everyone stared at both her and the bullet, she clenched her fist and watched as the bullet disintegrated into nothing. What was happening to her? She looked down at her hands, terrified of what she was capable of. The look on everyone's faces after she caught the bullet in mid air made her feel out of control and terrified. When their expressions twisted to horror after she destroyed the bullet without even touching it, she knew that something was wrong with her. To her surprise, Tony was the only person who didn't look absolutely horrified at her power. Her heart pounded against her ribcage to the point of physical pain. She stared up into her father's eyes, "kill him, and you kill me, too," she remarked, determined to save him. Bucky was the only thing that felt right, the only thing that made sense. She blinked the tears away, "I don't want to die, but I will...for him" she added.

The entire room fell silent. Where there had once been gunshots and shouting, it was quiet. While Tony was trying to make sense of all that happened, Clint wouldn't stop glaring at Bucky, and Natasha was desperately trying to come to terms with the fact that Emma would die for a member of Hydra. No one knew what Emma knew, though. Bucky was just as much a prisoner as she was. While her people were frozen in shock, Emma turned around to gaze up at Bucky. He was still surprised at what he had witnessed with the bullet, but she saw the pain in his eyes when it sank in just how much she cared for him. She knew that taking a chance on him could be a risk, but it was a risk she was willing to take no matter what, "run," she ordered.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her in confusion. His metal hand reached up and pulled the muzzle from his face, and she saw the frown etched on his lips, "I can't!" he exclaimed with so much disbelief that she would even tell him to do that. When she opened her mouth to argue her point, he spoke again, "we leave here together or not at all!" he repeated her words from before.

With no other option, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. She knew that this was the only way to get him to understand, to let him know that she was doing this for him. She didn't have the time to explain what she felt for him, so she had to show him. It was also her way of saying goodbye because the only way he would ever be safe was to stay as far away from her as possible. She was prone to danger, and she wouldn't be the reason for his pain and suffering. She knew that he was her person, the one everyone spends a lifetime trying to find, and she had to give him up. It was what she told him in that kiss. When she pulled away, she gazed up into his eyes with tears in her own, "please...go."

"Now, isn't that so sweet!" the familiar voice of her kidnapper, Kyr, ringing our behind them all. He made his way up the stairs her and Bucky had ascended to reach her people. Everyone's eyes were on him as he glared at each of them. His blonde hair looked disheveled, and he looked angrier than usual. Since he had often been the one to beat Emma, she had seen him plenty angry in previous moments. On his arm was the newest weapon she had already been introduced to, a weapon that made her shudder at the mere sight of it. It could emit pulses of energy as well as beams of pure energy, burning through its victims. The tech reminded her of her father's suits, but they only managed to manufacture the arm piece instead of an entire suit. Kyr aimed the weapon at Emma, causing everyone to freeze.

Emma knew her father, though, and the second her life was put into question, the anger boiled up within him, "take another step closer to her, and I'll kill you. I swear to God, I'll kill you and everyone you've ever loved," Tony growled, aiming his gun at Kyr before reaching out to Emma, "come over here," he instructed, hope in his deep brown eyes.

Before Emma could even think of moving over to her father, Kyr wrapped his arm around her waist, holding the repulsor in the palm of his glove to her head. Emma tensed up, fear shooting through her body and leaving her trembling. Kyr had used the weapon on her when she first arrived at the facility, the energy causing her to feel like the energy would burn through her body from the inside out. The pain was unbearable and made her wish for death. No other pain could compare to that one. The thought of feeling that again made the tears stream down her cheeks, knowing that it would be her or someone else who would experience it, and even though the pain would kill her this time around, she would take it all to protect the ones she loved. In a desperate attempt to keep her family from seeing her so broken and abused, she lowered her head and tried to collect herself.

Kyr backed up, taking Emma with him so that Bucky wasn't behind them. He saw the kind of relationship she was forging with Hydra's top soldier, so she knew that Kyr didn't trust Bucky not to shoot him in the back for this. Kyr snickered at Tony and his misplaced confidence, "make one wrong move, and you, your daughter, and your team are dead," he said, snapping his fingers, "just like that," he smiled, gripping Emma's hair and tugging her head back so that Tony could see the tears she tried to hide, "look at her. Weak, _pathetic_-just like her father. I have to say that I saw potential in her, though. I had a few plans for her if you hadn't spoiled our fun with this attack. I have to say that you've made quite a dent in our operation here, Mr. Stark, but I'm afraid your victory was short lived. I still expect you to live up to your end of the bargain or I'll show you what this does with your daughter as the first of many examples. So, you have the choice. You...or your daughter."

Closing her eyes, time seemed to stop for just a moment. Every memory flooded through her, every moment she felt happiness, every moment she had with her father. The last ones were moments she shared with Bucky. She thought of his arms around her while they laid in bed together the previous night. She thought of his lips on hers and the way he looked at her, like she was everything good in his life. She thought of her favorite memories with her family. She thought about the time she spent in the workshop with her father, suggesting different designs for his suits, which he always took to heart. She thought of the time when Coulson taught her how to drive using his red corvette, Lola. She thought of Steve lifting her up on his shoulders so that she could put the star on top of the Christmas tree in his apartment. She remembered Clint teaching her swear words in sign language. She remembered Bruce singing her to sleep some nights when she was anxious. She remembered Natasha passing on the wisdom that fighting like a girl didn't mean that she was weaker than men but that it meant fighting with conviction and for something greater than herself.

In that moment, Emma knew that she would have to fight like a girl. She knew that she would have to fight to protect the only people who meant more to her than anything else. With the lives of her people at stake and with the knowledge that her father would sacrifice himself to save her, she had to take that decision away from him. To her, the world would always need Tony Stark. He was a hero..._her_ hero. The world didn't need her as much as they needed him. Finding her strength, she smiled at her father, "I love you," she declared before channelling every ounce of her power to cause the power core in the weapon to fail. In turn, the glove overheated and began to melt to Kyr's hand and arm. The scream he let out was blood curdling, but nothing compared to the smell of burning flesh. She pulled away from him and faced him, watching as he struggled to rip the glove off. The violet mist radiated from the palm of her hand and at the glove, causing further damage to the power core and causing the system inside to fail.

Kyr glared up at her, realizing that this was her doing, "you little bitch!" he shouted, pulling out his sidearm in one swift motion. Then, there was silence. Emma's ears rang, and for a moment, it felt like she was underwater. She could hear the screams behind her, but it was as if they were so far away. A warmth spread throughout her abdomen, and after a short second, another patch of warmth spread throughout her left shoulder. She reached down to her abdomen, feeling the wetness on the tips of her fingers. When she brought them back up to look at them, she noticed the blood. She was...shot? Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes locked on Kyr. As the ringing in her ears subsided, Kyr closed the space between them, and wrapped his hand around her throat, bringing their faces closer together, "what a waste," he growled, tossing her broken body over to Bucky who caught her in his strong arms before she could fall to the ground, "here. Finish it. And clean it up when you're done. I don't want a mess again," Kyr ordered, turning around to face Tony, Natasha, and Clint. Aiming the weapon at them, he emitted a pulse of energy that would knock them unconscious for a limited time, but it would give him three less people to worry about for the moment.

Emma felt a sense of peace. Her mother would come to collect her and take her home, she was sure of it, but there was so much left to do here. She wasn't ready to die. She wasn't ready to leave the world behind when she had so much love left to give. She wasn't ready to leave Bucky. As she gazed up at him, hoping for him to be the last thing she saw in this life, she felt sorrow. His eyes were clouded with guilt, and she knew that he blamed himself for the situation they were in. She shook her head, grasping his shirt as tightly as she could with her strength leaving her as fast as it was, "it's okay," she murmured, her voice weak and broken, "it's okay, Bucky," she reminded him, sensing that he was starting to fall back to the anger he was in when she first saw him. She didn't want this to break him. She wanted him to go on and pass on the love she would have if she had more time. There was love in him, and she wanted him to experience that even after he lost her.

Keeping his left arm locked tightly around her waist, Bucky raised his sidearm at Kyr. Feeling Bucky's intense glare, Kyr turned to look at the two of them, "think about what you're doing. Think _very_ carefully before you cross me. Whatever you do to me, I'll make them hurt you a thousand times worse. You know that. You've learned that lesson before," Kyr taunted, trying to gain leverage. Seeing that threatening him wouldn't work, Kyr smirked and glanced over at Emma, "think of what I could have them do to your little girlfriend here. You have no idea just how creative I can be, so if you try to cross me, think of how they'll hurt her," he stated, causing Bucky to hesitate.

Emma squeezed his shirt, wanting it to end. If Kyr was dead, he couldn't hurt anyone again, but Emma knew what Bucky was most afraid of-that Kyr would survive to hurt her. Still, Bucky didn't lower his gun as the conflict raged on behind his blue eyes. Kyr stepped forward and lowered Bucky's gun for him becoming impatient with the soldier's inability to make a decision. His thin lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he grabbed Emma's face, "it's a terrible waste of a beautiful face, and a terrible waste of a soldier," he shook his head, glancing back up at Bucky. Behind Kyr, Emma's people began rising back up from the floor, a bit disoriented but fine otherwise.

Almost as soon as Kyr's words clicked in Emma's mind, he lunged forward, burying a knife deep into Bucky's abdomen, twisting the blade as he sunk it into the soldiers body. He just wanted to get Bucky out of the way, and he didn't care that he was sacrificing the most talented and decorated soldier in Hydra. It would make the coming storm easier without his insubordination. Emma's heart sank, "NO!" she screamed, feeling dizzy from the sudden burst of energy. As Bucky stumbled back, he took Emma with him, still not wanting her to fall.

Kyr pulled the knife from Bucky's body, and the soldier grunted as blood began to spill from the wound. He held himself upright, fighting through the pain. Kyr narrowed his eyes at him, "what could she _possibly _have to offer that I can't? What could you possibly gain from this little stunt? Name one good reason you have for doing this, for throwing it all away!" he shouted, wanting to understand.

Bucky's answer shook Emma to her very core.

"Her!" Bucky yelled, his voice stronger than ever before. It was filled with passion and conviction. As his left arm tightened around her, she gripped his shirt tighter to stay conscious. Bucky continued, tears filling his eyes and a stray one falling down his cheek, "she's my one good reason. _You_ hurt her. You made _me_ hurt her. Now-" Bucky paused, raising his gun again, "-it's your turn" he growled, shooting Kyr in both kneecaps to bring him down to the ground.

Even as the pain spread through one of the heads of Hydra, he maintained his scowl and power, "I'll see you in hell."

"It won't be hell for you until I get there, so you better enjoy it while you can," Bucky noted before dropping his gun. He reached down to his side and pulled out his knife. With one quick motion, Kyr's throat was sliced open, and he fell to the floor, grasping at his neck to stop the bleeding. The gurgling died away as Kyr's lifeless body spasmed a few times before stopping completely. Bucky didn't bat an eye, and Emma knew it must've been because he was used to that lifestyle. He lifted Emma up into his arms, and she felt the loss of blood getting to her. She felt tired, like she wanted to go to sleep, but she knew that if she gave in to that urge, there was a very real possibility that she'd never wake up. As she struggled to keep her eyes open, she remembered the very first power she ever discovered.

When she was younger, a little boy who lived next door to her and her father had fallen off his bicycle and onto the pavement. He scraped his knee and cut his cheek on a rock. He was only 5, and he was riding his bike while his parents were in the backyard. She was only 7 at the time, but her sympathy led her to running out into the road to be with him. As he cried, Emma's heart broke into pieces. She remembered grabbing his hand, and his wounds were healed. The only drawback was that they became her wounds. She gazed up at Bucky with a smile, knowing that she wasn't going to make it out of this no matter how hard they all tried to save her, so why not ensure Bucky's survival?

With the last bit of power that she could tap into, Emma reached up and stroked Bucky's cheek. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself, feeling the brand new wound forming on her abdomen. She clenched her jaw, fighting back the pain. It was like a fire spread through her veins. She wanted to scream, but her body was tired. When she opened her eyes again, she gazed up at Bucky. Realizing what she had done, Bucky's eyes widened, watching the blood seeping out of her new wound, "what did you do? What did you do?!" he nearly shouted, unparalleled fear clouding his eyes.

"I told you...I would die...trying to...get you...out of here," she murmured between labored breaths before her world went black.

* * *

***Bucky's POV***

Bucky panicked even more after Emma's body went limp in his arms. She was still alive, but she was barely there. His eyes flickered up to Tony's, the man who hated him for every good reason, "your daughter will _die _if she doesn't receive medical attention immediately. I can get her to the surface faster than you can whether you want to admit it or not. You can try to shoot me, try to kill me, or try to hurt me. I deserve all of it, but...I'm just asking you to wait until she's taken care of," Bucky pleaded with him, trying to reason with the broken father. Bucky couldn't possibly imagine what it was like to see your child on the very brink of death, but he could understand what it was like to lose everything. Bucky lost everything once before, and the moment he found a reason to live, fate was threatening to take everything away from him again.

Without waiting for a response from her father, Bucky turned on his heel and ran toward the surface with her in his arms. He was faster and stronger than all of them, but he also knew the entire facility like the back of his hand. He knew all the shortcuts and hidden passageways, so he could get her to safety without incident. The redhead was behind Bucky the entire way. He didn't know her, but the one thing he did know was that she hated him just like Tony and the archer. She kept a close eye on every move he made, and Bucky knew-without the shadow of a doubt-that if he stepped out of line at all, she'd kill him without hesitation. If Emma didn't make it, he'd welcome death at that point.

When they finally reached the quinjet, Bucky ran up the ramp right behind the redhead Bucky walked up to the lone man on the aircraft with a lab coat on, which Bucky hoped would be a doctor or someone who could help. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the young woman who looked so close to death, "oh God, Natasha! What happened?" he asked.

Emma's head craned to the side, and she smiled over at the doctor, "hi, uncle Bruce" she murmured with a weak smile. She was fighting so hard to hold on to consciousness, and their entire way up to the surface, Bucky could feel her fading in and out. She was starting to struggle.

Bruce's eyes locked with hers, and the tears were clear in his brown eyes. Bucky could finally see just how much love her people had for her. Before Natasha could answer his question, Bucky spoke, "she has a gunshot wound and a stab wound on the abdomen and a gunshot wound on her left shoulder. She's lost quite a bit of blood already. Tell me what I can do," he pleaded, wanting to be of some help instead of just sitting and waiting for her to bleed out.

"Put her down on the cot over there," Bruce pointed over at a more secluded area of the quinjet, "I need to find my kit," he stated, frantically searching the aircraft for his medical supplies. Bucky was sure they were expecting some cuts and scrapes when they rescued her, but he wasn't sure if they were expecting wounds to this extent.

Following Bruce's order, Bucky carried her over to the cot and laid her down on it as gently as possible. Watching her face twist in pain made his heart shatter, so he tried as hard as possible to ease that pain as much as possible. He watched as she gripped the bedsheets next to her, desperately clinging to life before it had the chance to leave her. When Bucky moved to leave and help Bruce, he stopped when she grabbed his hand. Her grip was weak but still filled with a strength he witnessed from her time and time again. He stared down at her, his heart breaking slowly. He lowered himself down onto the cot next to her like he had the previous night. He wanted to hold her in his arms again and feel the weight of her head on his chest. She chased the nightmares away, and he never wanted them to come back.

Her slender fingers intertwined with his metal ones, and she found the courage to smile up at him, her eyes glistening with tears, "this is your chance," she stated, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed. He imagined, for a moment, that his world wasn't falling apart with every labored breath her body dragged in. Her fingers were featherlight against his cheek and jaw. As she laid in bed, committing every feature of his face to memory, Bucky reached up and caught her hand in his. He didn't want her to have to remember him. He wanted to be by her side, not as a distant memory, "it's finally over, Bucky. You've suffered enough."

Bucky could feel the hot tears in his eyes, threatening to fall. This was what she turned him into, a man with no control. He had never experienced a pain like that before, and he could finally remember every piece of his past. He could remember who he was before Hydra took him, and even when he was a prisoner in their organization and in his own mind, he didn't know true pain until he was this close to losing the one woman who made him remember himself. She was the woman he'd been looking for since the beginning of time, the one woman he recognized even when they'd never met. She wasn't a stranger when they met. He shook his head, biting his bottom lip to keep his from quivering, "I don't want to leave you-not like this," he trembled, a stray tear falling from his cheek.

Emma wiped the tear away, and Bucky could feel her heart breaking. She didn't want to see him cry for her, "there's nothing you can do about this. I made my decision. If I had to do it all over, I'd make the same ones because you're safe," she replied, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she forced them back open. The struggle was becoming more and more difficult, but she wouldn't go easily.

"Why did you do it?" Bucky asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at her bloodied shirt. It was almost completely soaked with her blood, and he could only imagine what it looked like underneath. He had seen gunshot wounds before and stab wounds, but he didn't want to think of them on her. He didn't want to think of the excruciating pain she was in because he knew-no matter how much she denied it-he played a pivotal role in causing her pain. Even if it was the soldier and not Bucky who did those things, he still felt responsible. He should've fought their control harder. He shook his head, confusion spreading through him as quickly as the guilt, "I just-I don't understand. Why would you forfeit everything for me?"

Emma pulled her hand from his cheek and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up. When their eyes connected, it was like she was healed. The fire that had been starting to die out was more than present in her eyes. As she spoke, her voice was filled with the same conviction Bucky grew to love, "because you're everything to me," she confessed, "you're so much more than you think. You are not this broken piece of machinery. You aren't Hydra's weapon. You're Bucky. You're what I've been looking for all this time. _This_ was what fate had in store for me, to protect the one thing that meant more to me than anything else. I wish...I had more time to explain it to you, but...I don't know if I'd be able to even if I tried. You mean everything to me, Bucky..._everything_. So _never_, for a single moment, think that I forfeited everything for nothing because my life means nothing to me if it means I can save you."

As the tears streamed down Emma's cheeks, Bucky found himself just as emotional. In that moment, he was validated. He didn't believe he was worthy of her sacrifice-he never would. However, he caught himself wondering how he could hate himself so much when the person who meant the most to him looked at him the way she did. She looked at him the way he could remember his mother used to look at his father-like he was the center of her universe. The tears streamed freely down his cheeks, and he didn't try to hide them and didn't feel ashamed about them for the first time in his life, "I don't want you to go. We didn't have enough time," he whimpered.

"No amount of time would've been enough," she reminded him, the light beginning to fade from her eyes once more, "but I just want to see you smile one more time," she whispered, her energy fading.

Bucky forced himself to smile for her, trying to push aside all his sadness to make their last moments together as beautiful as she was. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers once more, feeling the love radiating from her just as strong as before. Her right hand cupped his cheek as she smiled into the kiss. Bucky wanted to know what she was thinking in that very moment, but all he knew for certain was that she was happy. Even on the brink of death, she felt joy. When he finally pulled away, he stroked her cheek as gently as possible. She was beautiful and fragile, but yet so strong and rough. He smiled down at her, tears of unparalleled emotion filling his eyes, "you are so beautiful," he confessed, causing a smile to spread across her full lips.

Then, her eyes closed.

* * *

***Tony's POV***

Tony had never run so fast in his life. Clint could barely keep up. When they reached Steve, who had been keeping the upper levels clear for them, Clint decided that he would help Steve clear out the remainder of the Hydra facility. They wouldn't be able to do it on their own, but they would do their best to hold out until S.H.I.E.L.D. got there. Steve and Clint both knew that Tony had no intentions of helping, and they didn't expect that of him, especially when Emma's life was on the line. They wanted to be there with her, too, but they understood that leaving the facility could mean a swift retaliation from Hydra. Tony made his way to the surface on his own, taking down the only two Hydra agents who stood in his way. He ran through the field to the quinjet and up the ramp. Before he could enter the aircraft, Natasha pressed her hand against the middle of his chest, stopping him. If she were anyone else, Tony would've broken her wrist for keeping him from his daughter in that moment, "Emma's stable," she informed him, "it took Bruce some time, but he worked his magic like he always does. She'll need extensive care back at the facility, but she's not dead."

Tony nodded his head, but there was one little detail that she avoided, "where is he?" he asked, the heat of rage rising in his chest. He wanted to kill that man.

Natasha's blue eyes locked with his, and he saw so much of Emma in her, "Tony, you need to think before you do anything irrational," she stated, trying to ground him before he spiralled too far out of control.

"Irrational?" he asked with a chuckle, "I'm gonna kill him! You saw what he did to Emma, too. Was it just me?" he asked, his voice louder than usual. He had been through so much more than any father should have to go through, and Natasha was trying to talk him out of killing the one man who caused his daughter a world of pain? Why would he let Bucky walk away after that?

She lowered her eyes, trying to think of any way to keep him from killing the young man. Tony could see the conflict in the assassin. In any other situation, she would be the first to put a bullet through someone's head, _especially_ if they wronged someone she loved, and Natasha loved Emma like the sister she never had. He could see how torn she was, but he was on a warpath. She sighed, "you're her father, so the choice is up to you. Just know that while I hate him for what he did, he's the one that saved her life. If it wasn't for him, she would've bled out and died before we could even get her to Steve," she reminded him as her last attempt to save Emma the heartbreak and loss she would feel if Tony went through with executing Bucky.

"Steve and Clint need help clearing the facility. They're buying time before S.H.I.E.L.D. gets here. I can handle things here," he stated, unaffected by what she said. He didn't care that Bucky helped save his daughter's life. He made her bleed, and now it was his turn. He watched as the reluctant young woman stepped past him and made her way back toward the facility, but it wasn't before she shot a sorrow-filled look in the direction of Emma and Bucky.

Tony walked past Bruce who was trying to meditate through his wild emotions. Emma taught Bruce different tricks in meditation. She was often the one to ground him, but after nearly losing her, Tony knew that Bruce had to do everything in his power to stop the other guy from coming out. Walking over to the cot, Tony saw Bucky sitting vigil right at her bedside. The bed was covered in her blood, and so was the young soldier. Tony's heart thudded against his ribcage until he felt physical pain. He clenched his jaw, trying to find the rage that had once been within him. He tried to find the will to kill the young man. However, when Bucky pulled Emma's hand up to his lips, pressing three kisses against it, Tony couldn't help but soften. He couldn't help but remember when he would do that with Anna Marie-Emma's mother.

For the first time since he saw Bucky hurt his daughter, Tony felt conflicted in what he was meant to do. He felt uncertain. The drive was no longer there, but he _wanted_ to kill him. He wanted to hurt Bucky the way he hurt his little girl. Without hesitation, Tony pulled out his sidearm and aimed it at the back of Bucky's head. To his surprise, Bucky didn't even flinch when he pulled the slide back. There was a faint voice in the back of his mind telling him to take a step back. He didn't want to give any credit to the man who hurt Emma so badly, but he couldn't ignore the fact that without him, Emma would have died. Bucky's eyes remained locked on Emma, and he continued to stroke the back of her hand with his thumb as if Tony wasn't even there, "look at me" Tony barked out, his entire body trembling like a leaf because he was so conflicted.

Bucky didn't show any signs of moving. Instead, he continued to hold her hand, staring at her peaceful body, "when I met your daughter...I started to remember. It was like the memories I treasured most came flooding back-memories Hydra stole from me-like I was witnessing them for the first time. I wasn't, though. I could finally recall my past. I saw the face of my mother. That's when I knew your daughter was special. She helped me remember my mom, the first woman I ever loved. I always thought that my mom would be the first and last woman I would ever love, but...I knew I was wrong when I met Emma," the soldier confessed, reaching out to brush a stray piece of hair from Emma's face. Tony stiffened at the movement and at the sheer weight of his words, but Bucky continued, "my mom told me once that...you'll know your feelings for someone are true if they're the first person you want to see when you wake and the last person you want to see before falling asleep. Sir, if this is the last time I fall asleep, she's the last person I want to see."

Tony was completely still as he sat by Emma's bedside. For six days, he waited. For six days, his fellow Avengers kept him company. Every night, each member of the team would find a spot in the room and sleep there. Tony would sometimes crawl into the hospital bed with her, careful not to knock into any of the machines that monitored her every breath and heartbeat. If he didn't sleep in the bed with her, he would sleep in the chair right next to her bed, holding her hand throughout the night. On the nights Tony didn't sleep with her, Steve would somehow manage to fit his massive form into the vacant space on the bed. Tony was surprised his muscles didn't impede him from sleeping in the bed with her, but he knew that even if they tried, Steve would find a way to sleep by her side. No matter how they felt toward each other, they always had one thing in common, their love for Emma. Tony loved Steve simply because of how much Steve loved Emma and how selfless he was when it came to her.

As Tony sat by her bed, waiting for her to wake up, he gazed down at the pictures of his soulmate, Emma's mother, Anna. He couldn't help but think about how similar they were, how he never truly lost Anna. He could remember the day Emma was born like it was yesterday. He remembered the fear and the heartache as clearly as the joy and love. He could remember the silence in the room when Emma finally entered the world. He remembered the doctors struggling to find any signs of life within her, and he could still hear Anna's frantic pleas to hold their baby. When the doctors finally handed the body of their lifeless baby over to Anna, Tony remembered the life fading from her eyes as Emma's finally opened. It was Anna's final gift to their daughter. The trade was a fair one-a life for a life. He couldn't help but think of how willing Emma was to do the same for Bucky, trade a life for a life.

As he stared at the pictures of the love of his life, he heard Emma inhale deeply. His brown eyes flickered over to her, seeing that her eyes were finally opened. He couldn't help but smile. After so much time had passed, he finally had her back. A smirk tugged at the sides of her lips, and he knew that she was doing the best she could given the fact that she'd been in a comatose state for nearly a week, "hi, dad," she murmured, reaching out for his hand.

Tony's eyes filled with tears of pure joy. For a while, he was sure he'd never hear her voice again, "hi, sweetheart," he smiled, his heart filling with warmth and love. He turned the pictures so that Emma could see what he was looking at, "when your mom was pregnant with you, she was scared to death. She was 6 years younger than me, but I was sure she'd be far more capable of raising a baby than I would be. It was something neither of us were prepared for, but we both knew that we wouldn't have wanted it any other way. We were planning on raising our child together. Your mother was just like you, willful and passionate and filled with so much love. I can remember times when she'd wake up in the middle of the night and walk into your nursery to sketch designs on the wall that she would paint the next day. She changed her mind more times than I can count, and she finally settled on a tree that she called "the tree of life." She told me that it was because her daughter would make the world a more beautiful place than she found it, that life would always be at the forefront of her daughter's mind, that she would sacrifice anything to save just one. She knew you better than anyone, and you weren't even born yet. Your mother was right about a lot of things, and I thought she was done with proving her point to me. 6 days ago, I saw that she wasn't quite finished" he reminisced, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

Emma squeezed Tony's hand, and he gazed up at the young woman. She looked so much like him, but she was beautiful like her mother. She was graceful and wild like her mother. She loved like her mother-fully and without reservation. Tony couldn't keep the pride from filling his heart as Emma showed her support the same way Anna Marie always did. Tony stared down at her, and she smiled up at him, "I'm like you, too," she reminded him, and Tony could see that she didn't want him to sell himself short. He knew that she credited him as much as he credited Anna, "I wouldn't have survived if I wasn't as determined and stubborn as you are, so there are benefits of being the daughter of the most willful man in history" she joked, trying to lighten the mood before her smile fell, "how _am _I alive?" she asked

"Bruce and I didn't do it alone," he confessed, knowing that he couldn't dance around the subject for very long. There would come a time when they would have to tell her what she was and how she became that way. Tony would have been lying if he didn't secretly hope and pray that she _didn't_ inherit that side of her mother. He had been wishing that she'd be able to go through her life without incident and without these abilities that she seemed to showcase. While it was something he was left in awe about with Anna Marie, he saw how much it tore her apart when her abilities didn't allow her to help. He was terrified that Emma would be labelled a freak or a monster. People used to call Anna that all the time. No matter what happened, and no matter what steps Emma had to take to gain control of her abilities, Tony was prepared to be right by her side like he'd always been. He continued his explanation, "we were assisted by a _very _helpful professor who your mother studied under. He was the one who helped her get a hold of her abilities. We have a lot to talk about regarding that, but now's not really the best time."

"Where's Bucky?" Emma asked the only question that was on her mind. Tony could see that she wasn't deeply interested in talking about the professor or about what happened at the facility. All she cared about was Bucky, and he knew by the fear in her voice that she was terrified something happened to him.

"I don't know," Tony answered truthfully, lowering his eyes. He was still conflicted even after he made the decision to let the boy go. There was still a piece of him that wanted to hurt the soldier for what he had done to his daughter, but he had to live with his decision to let him walk away. Tony ran a hand through his hair, "I wanted to kill him, but...it's thanks to him that you're here now. We couldn't have gotten you to Bruce fast enough on our own, and Steve wasn't close enough to get you to the surface in time. Cap would've killed him if he didn't leave before the rest of the team got to the quinjet. I'm sure of it. I saw the way you looked at him, though. It was the way your mother used to look at me. I couldn't bring myself to take that away from you," he confessed, seeing the tears well up in her eyes. He reached into his pocket, frantically searching for the one thing that could make her feel better, "he left this for you," he said, holding out the letter Bucky had begged to write her. When Emma took it from him and pressed it to her heart, Tony knew exactly what Bucky meant to her. Everything.

* * *

***Emma's POV***

Emma stared down at the folded paper for some time before unfolding it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought of the possible contents of the letter. She couldn't help but think of the last words she said to him and the smile on his face as he pushed away all the sadness just to obey her last wish. She could remember the kiss and the way he called her beautiful. Even thinking about it now, Emma blushed through the tears streaming down her cheeks. Before she opened the letter, she thought of his hands, the same ones that held her through the night, wiped the tears from her eyes, and steadied her face as he kissed her. Before she could reach up to wipe her own tears away, the strong and calloused hands of her father brushed them away. Even though she couldn't have Bucky, she had Tony, and he was always more than enough for her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before she opened the letter.

_Emma,_

_There is a definitive moment in everyone's life when you realize that you've found your soulmate. It can be shocking and completely unexpected, especially for someone like me who barely knew what love was when you were thrown into my life. I knew hate and anger and loneliness, but you broke down my walls and showed me that even monsters can be loved. There is no possible way for me to sum up just how grateful I am for our time spent together. I only recently remembered everything, and I mean everything. I remember who I am. I remember my mother, my father, my sister, and my brothers. I remember Steve. I remember who I used to be-a man willing to give everything for the ones I love. I became that man again when I was with you._

_You took from me all the anger and fear I harbored in my heart, and you filled it with love. Thank you for being the most beautiful woman I've ever met, inside and out. Thank you for making the days seem a little longer and the nights seem a little shorter. You were a dream within my nightmare, the light inside the darkness, and a little bit of heaven in a place that can only be described as Hell. I promise you, Emma, not a day will go by that I won't think of you and wonder how you are and what you're thinking about. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the ways I hurt you and for standing by as they hurt you. I will never be able to forgive myself for that, but I know you already have._

_I want to thank you for making our limited time together seem like an entire lifetime full of happiness. I will cherish every moment we spent together until the day I die. You will be on my mind every second of every day, and the memory of you will bring a sense of hope to my heart that had never been there before. I don't know if you'll wake up or if you'll ever get the chance to read this, but...I want you to know that I will earn the gift that you gave to me. I will honor your sacrifice by living a life that would make you proud. _

_I know only a handful of things. I know that my name is James Buchanan Barnes...Bucky. I know that we were meant to find each other, that our souls have known each other long before either one of us were born. I know that I am absolutely and unapologetically in love with you. I know that no amount of time with you would've been enough. I know that I'll miss you for the rest of my life. I know that you will be the driving force behind everything I do from this moment on. You are my reason, Emma. Forever._

_-Bucky Barnes_

Emma couldn't wipe the tears from her cheeks fast enough. She just wanted to feel his arms around her one last time. She wanted to tell him that she was just as in love with him as he was with her, but she missed her chance. She was too afraid to tell him before because she wasn't sure how to express herself. She didn't know if she was just delusional, but she knew what she felt. She knew that it wasn't just a crush. Emma loved him. She didn't know the most intimate details about him, but she knew what happened when they met. The sorrow in her heart was overpowered by her determination to do for others what she did for Bucky. He credited her for saving him, for giving him a second chance at life. The sense of responsibility she felt only grew as she imagined a life of liberating people with him by her side.

Emma forced herself up and off the bed, ignoring Tony's words of disagreement. He tried to talk her into taking it easy, but fought through the lightheadedness to walk over to the window. The city spread out beneath them, and she realized that she wasn't even close to home. They were at the Avengers tower, the one place she felt happiest because the people she loved most we safe here. Tony followed her over to the window, grasping her right shoulder, "we'll find him" he promised, his voice soft but strong, "but in the meantime, we need to get you stabilized," he noted, walking over to a large mirror on the wall. Emma's eyes followed him and noticed the proud smile on his face, "Jarvis, open the panel," he instructed the A.I.

As the mirror faded away, Emma took in the sight of the violet suit of iron armor. It had a slender build compared to Tony's Iron Man suits, and it looked far more high-tech. The breast plate was shaped for a woman. Other than that and the obvious color changes, it looked almost exactly the same as his. She glanced up at the label for the suit. Tony often labelled his suits in his "Hall of Armors," and she wondered what this one was called. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw it. The label only read "Emma Stark: Iron Woman." Her eyes widened as she stared at her name. Tony motioned to the suit, "I was thinking that this would help...because if we're gonna find Bucky, the team's gonna need the help of it's newest Avenger."


End file.
